


not there yet

by onlyeverthus



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyeverthus/pseuds/onlyeverthus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor still needs to figure himself, and Clara, out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not there yet

**Author's Note:**

> My first Doctor Who fic in like, 3 years, but Twelve and Clara awoke the muse.

She's sleeping, and he has an amused thought that this is not a room for sleeping. She's got a room somewhere, but she seems comfortable, and he knows she must be tired, so he decides he'll leave her be.

Not to mention moving her, or even just waking her, would require touching her, and he's not quite – _there_ , yet. Yes, he grabbed her hand in the chamber under the restaurant, but this is different, this is like the hugging, it's intimate and – and scary, and he's not yet quite figured out his hands and arms and everything else.

It's all new, and he has memories, of course he does, plenty of memories of hugging her and touching her and his lips on her forehead, but that was before. The previous him. He doesn't feel much like that him right now.

He's just not quite _there_. His limbs and cells don't seem like they're quite settled yet, and of course he'll touch her, he thinks, he'll touch her to save her, to pull her out of the way of harm, but the hugging, and his hands on her cheeks, and his lips on her forehead... if it comes, it will be later.

For now, she's sleeping, and he can't help watching her. There's a fondness there, to be sure, and he can't deny how afraid he'd been when she said she was leaving, the panic that seized his hearts as she walked out of the TARDIS. He'd been unable to keep his emotions completely locked inside, and he'd begged her to just see him, to realize that he was there in front of her, and his relief when she finally did had been immeasurable.

His feelings for her confuse him, though. There is fondness, of course, but something deeper, something a lot like – like –

_love?_

The thought makes him frown, because maybe it's right, and it feels like love, but then it _doesn't_ feel like love, and he can't figure out what in the world to make of it.

Her hair falls across her face as she shifts in her sleep, and he almost wants to step forward to fix it, but then that's _touching_ , and no, that's just – it's – it's _frustrating_ , is what it is.

He backs away, turns, and suddenly – THUD.

"Oh!" she cries in a pained voice, and he whirls to look at her, finding her on the floor, looking very disheveled, very confused, and very alarmed.

"Oh," he echoes in a quieter voice, stepping towards her again. His hands fidget at his sides, moving forward and back, not sure what to do. "I, er – all right?"

"As long as nothing's broken," she mutters, pushing to a sitting position and rubbing her elbow.

He kneels in front of her, the sonic screwdriver in his hand, and does a quick scan of her arm.

"Nope, nothing broken," he confirms. She lifts her gaze to his face, and though she still looks a bit disheveled, and a bit bleary-eyed, her lips curve, and slowly, so do his.


End file.
